


Sweetly

by JustJasper



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Office Sex, One-Sided Attraction, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch offers, Reid declines, and Morgan doesn't seem to even have to ask.</p><p> For rounds_of_kink prompt: Reid only let Morgan help him when he injured his knee, no matter how many times Hotch offered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetly

 

_“All day and all night my desire for you unwinds like a poisonous snake.” - Samar Sen_

  
  
It was normal, Hotch thought, that watching Reid struggle along on his crutches made him want to help him. It had nothing to do with the other feelings he had surrounding the man, he was sure of it. Almost.  
  
“Do you need a hand?” he asked casually, falling into step beside Reid over the pebbly ground.  
  
“Thanks, I’m fine.” He huffed with the effort of swinging his body forward on the crutches, but the decline was clearly meant.  
  
That would have been fine to Hotch, who fell behind again so he could cast his eyes over his entire team trudging along the embankment towards the crime scene, the rejection no issue if not that just a minute later Morgan had come up alongside Reid and after just a few seconds slipped his arm around him, gripping firmly at his ribs. His shoulders stiffened indignantly, wondering if Morgan had even asked; of course he had, he reasoned. Morgan wouldn’t just grab his friend in such an intimate fashion, and the way Reid put his weight on Morgan showed he was evidently grateful for the help.  


 

***

  
  
Across the bullpen, Aaron could tell Reid was in pain. He kept moving stiffly, rubbing the spot around where he’d been shot. With a file in hand as an excuse, he tried to make his gait as casual as felt comfortable as he passed Reid’s desk.  
  
“You alright, Reid?”  
  
“Yeah.” It didn’t sound alright, and he tried to suppress a grimace of pain.  
  
“If your leg is still bad, you know you can take time off, right?” he offered, hoping Reid would accept the extended kindness out of more than needing it, out of wanting to accept something Hotch gave him.  
  
“I’m fine. Some days the pain is worse than others.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yeah.” He smiled genuinely, twisting the pen around between his fingers.  
  
Some minutes later, from his place in his office Hotch watched as Morgan returned from the nearest Deli store with lunch, put a sub sandwich down in front of Reid and pulled his chair around so he could join the man at his desk. He watched as the friends talked easily, Reid gesticulating wildly even with a sandwich in hand. It was interesting really; Morgan was usually the first to silence Reid’s tangents when they were working, but socially he was more likely to engage him, or at least tolerate him. Then there were moments like this, when Morgan was completely focused on Reid, and Reid on him, and Hotch had never heard the conversations up close but they always looked deep, somehow.  
  
Reid shifted in his seat and his face creased in pain; in response Morgan’s brow knotted and his hand wandered out and brushed gently over Reid’s thigh, over the wound. Reid didn’t freeze like Hotch expected, in fact his reaction was subtle but unprecedented; he smiled sheepishly at Morgan, his lips moved in some quiet sentence and his own fingers brushes ever so lightly over the back of Morgan’s hand, squeezing and circling the pad of his thumb on the other’s dark skin before they both drew their hands away, eyes still locked with Morgan’s.  


 

***

  
  
He knew it was unprofessional, but seeing Reid hobble around on crutches made him want to scoop him up in his arms and run his hands all over him to sooth away the aches and pains.  
  
Reid was the last one left in the bullpen when Hotch came out of his office, and the man looked like he was packing up to leave.  
  
“This is a late one for you, Reid,” he commented as he drew closer.  
  
“I had paperwork to finished. I wanted to get what I could done now, I’m going to the new Mesopotamian exhibit on Sunday.”  
  
“Sounds fun,” he smiled. “You’re not getting the subway back, are you?”  
  
“Yeah.” He shrugged.  
  
“In your condition?” Hotch smiled amiably. “Let me give you a ride.”  
  
“It’s okay Hotch, I’m fine to get the subway.”  
  
“On crutches?” he pushed. “I don’t mind.”  
  
“Hotch, really-” it was said with a smile, but it was quite firm, “I don’t need a ride. Thanks, but I’m okay.”  
  
“Alright. Goodnight Reid,” he nodded stiffly, heading out towards the lift.  
  
He was at his car when he realised he’d forgotten his phone, so he doubled back to the BAU. It was empty, and he wondered why he hadn’t passed Reid on the way back up.  
  
It was when he walked past the conference room on the way out that he heard it; the soft breathy moans that sounded like Reid. Pushing himself against the wall by the slightly ajar door, he peered through the blinds and almost gasped.  
  
With the light of the screen illuminating the dark room and casting it all in dramatic shadow, Reid was laid on his back on the round table, shirt pushed up around his ribs, slacks and underwear pulled down and hanging off one leg, legs splayed wide, a fully clothed Morgan at his side with two thick fingers pushed inside the genius. His other hand was holding Reid down at the stomach, and for a second that gave Hotch both a sickening jolt and a sudden feeling of opportunity, he thought things might be untoward. Then of course his reason centre kicked in: Morgan was a good man, and would never do something like that, and it was only jealousy that Hotch’s brain was even letting him consider that. There was also the fact that Reid was moaning wantonly, trying to fuck himself on Morgan’s slow-thrusting fingers.  
  
“Please..” he groaned, the sound carrying out of the open door, hands gripping at the wooden table. “Please Morgan, fuck me. Get inside me.”  
  
Hotch could feel his arousal stirring, wanting more than anything for Reid to say those words to him.  
  
“I’m not fucking you with your bad knee, baby,” Morgan chuckled, hand running up Reid’s stomach and under his shirt, pinching at the man’s nipple.  
  
“Morgan my knee isn’t that bad,” he sounded breathless, wanton.  
  
“You can barely walk,” Morgan chuckled darkly, pressing his thumb against Reid’s perineum as he continued to finger fuck him agonisingly slowly. Hotch was glad for the darkness hiding him and his straining erection through his pants as he watched skin that almost glowed white through the dark stretching to accommodate Morgan’s intrusion.  
  
“We just have to find a position that doesn’t hurt me,” Reid offered. “Please, Morgan. I miss you.”  
  
“You mean you miss having my dick in you.” Morgan lowered his mouth and claimed Reid’s.  
  
“Same thing,” Reid murmured and returned the kiss franticly, hand coming up to grasp Morgan’s bicep.  
  
Hotch knew he shouldn’t feel angry, but he did; that Morgan was kissing him, touching him, that it was apparent they had been involved for some time, and that he, a profiler, hadn’t worked it out.  
  
“Please.” Reid was still begging.   
  
“Okay baby,” Morgan murmured, his fingers moving a little faster. “”Tonight we’ll try. Nice comfy bed, see if we can find something that doesn’t hurt you. I’ll fuck you sweetly.”  
  
Reid groaned impatiently, but seemed satisfied. Hotch couldn’t help the part of him that insisted he would have given Reid what he wanted, fucked him so thoroughly right there on the table that he forgot the pain in his knee.  
  
Reid suddenly arched, back bending lusciously and letting out a low moan as Morgan evident pushed directly on his prostate. They had to believe they were quite alone, else they wouldn’t be so loud.  
  
“Fuck! Morgan! Again!” he commanded. Morgan acquiesced without hesitation, where Hotch would have waited, made him work for it.  
  
“You close, baby?” Morgan cooed, teeth nipping at Reid’s jaw, practically on the table with him.  
  
“Keep touching there-” he back bowed off the desk again, “there! There! Yes! Derek!”  
  
It took Hotch by surprise that Reid used Morgan’s first name – the way he had said ‘Morgan’ had sounded so intimate he hadn’t realised the difference until he’d heard him actually use his given name.  
  
“Spencer, baby, you’re so damn beautiful when you’re this close.”  
  
Hotch’s brow knotted with the irrational wave of anger that Morgan used Reid’s first name, a name he had never once used at work, a name Hotch wanted to share with Reid alone.  
  
Morgan’s free hand went to Reid’s hard cock, slim and long and beautiful, even though Hotch had never thought of men like that before he’d started thinking of Reid.  
  
“There, Derek! There! There!”  
  
Morgan pushed Reid expertly into orgasm, curling and thrusting his fingers in the man’s tight channel as he fisted his cock, until Reid was moaning wantonly and ejaculated over his stomach and Morgan’s hand.  
  
“Derek! Oh... wow.”  
  
“Wow yourself,” the other man chuckled, slowly withdrawing his fingers, lingering soothing touches to the sensitive skin. “I thought you were going to throw your back out.”  
  
“Almost,” he hummed happily and pushed himself up on his elbows, and Hotch kept still, hoping the dark still concealed him. “Let me do you now.”  
  
“Nah, when we get back to mine.” Morgan said. “The cleaners will be going round soon, don’t want them to catch us.”  
  
“Are you going to be able to drive with an erection?” Reid teased as he put his clothing back in order. “Maybe I’ll have to give you “road head” before we drive off.”  
  
“Well technically it’s not road head if we’re stationary,” he chuckled, “and as good as you are, a blowjob isn’t worth crashing my car and having to explain  _that_  to the insurers.”  
  
With a last longing glance up and down Reid’s form, Hotch retreated quickly from the lover’s conversation, back to the safety of his office to hide as they left and to ignore his erection until it subsided.  


 

***

  
  
Hotch looked guiltily at the e-mail on his screen; a policy reminder sent to everyone in the building regarding fraternisation rules. He knew it had been incredibly mean-spirited, and frankly he regretted it now in the light of day, knowing Morgan and Reid would both see it, but he hadn’t been in the best mood with the realisation that Reid was never going to reciprocate the way he felt. They would never know he had prompted the e-mail, or that he had seen them, and somehow he felt worse and not better for that, for shirking the responsibility of his actions. It wasn’t that he wanted to break them up, but he didn’t want to have to deal with the possibility of them making their relationship public, at least while he was getting over this... thing he had for Reid.   
  
He got up and went to his office door, and surely enough, Reid was at his desk looking at his screen with measured concern, gaze flickering to Morgan, who was looking at his phone. The older agent looked up, catching Reid’s worried glance, and returning a soft, sincere smile, which Reid couldn’t help mirroring.  
  
Hotch was ashamed of the way it twisted in his gut to see such a tiny exchange of mutual affection between the men. But at least, he considered, Reid was getting the care he deserved from someone, even if it wasn’t him.  


 

_“Profound desire, true desire is the desire to be close to someone.” - Paulo Coelho_


End file.
